


The Apartment of Rugs

by Besin



Series: Queens-Verse [3]
Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Besin/pseuds/Besin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of Sora, the origin of all homosexuals. In his life thus far he has never met anyone straight. He shares an apartment with his best friend, Riku, surrounded by rugs, rugs, and more rugs. It's a collection they have going, but that's not the point. See, Sora was in love with a lesbian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apartment of Rugs

Hello. My name is Sora and I am the origin of all homosexuals.

No, that was not the punch line. I am literally surrounded by lesbians and homosexual men. I am the only straight person I know.

Moving on, as a comfortable, decidedly straight male you'd think I'd have no problem with this, what with all the girls around me making out with each other left and right and men constantly inflating my ego. However, there's one thing you probably didn't consider. Okay, maybe two. Or three. Or a million, because what we know that we know pales in comparison to what we don't know that we don't know. I digress; the thing is that I find many of these (distinctly gay) women attractive. Like, “Bring home to Momma” attractive.

See, this one girl who works at the shampoo company with me- Kairi- is a knock-out. And I'm not talking her breasts or her face or her hips- I'm talking about her mind and her personality and her character. She's just got this way about her that draws me in and makes me want to never let go. For a long while I was in love with her.

In fact, I'm still in love with her. Who wouldn't be? What with her hair cropped to her ears, big blue eyes, fantastic conversation topics, ambition, soft facial features, and who knows what else?

Anyway, she's awesome. Whatever. End of story, right?

Wrong.

See, at first I had no idea she was a lesbian. Throw in any mental punch lines right here because, seriously, I'm an idiot who can't see patterns.

So I asked Kairi on a date and she said yes. But apparently she didn't know it was a date, and things got awkward. Very awkward. Then she told me she was a lesbian and I should find myself a nice heterosexual girl to spend my time with. I really should have realized she wasn't straight. Then again, I'd never met a straight girl in my life so identifying one would be a real challenge.

Let's backtrack a bit. See, when I was born I was handed off to a nice gay couple- Cloud and Sephiroth Strife. (Everyone just calls them “Strife” because Sephiroth can't stand his family and the moment the U.S. allows him to marry Cloud is the moment he changes his name.)

And so, I am Sora Strife, Raised by gay men, surrounded by gay women, and... You know what? Scratch that. There's one other straight guy I know. My friend Riku. Tall, smart, athletic- you know the drill. Drop-dead-gorgeous. He works at the shampoo company, too, but as a model. Who wouldn't want that gorgeous mug in their bathroom?

That came out a little not-straight, but if you knew the guy you wouldn't argue.

So, our story begins some time during the end of winter. I can't remember exactly when, because I'm not some super-genius who remembers everything that happens to them, or those weird guys who write everything down.

The setting was Riku's studio apartment. We actually shared it, but it was his because he's the one who paid more rent and decorated the place. Higher salary, you know? Moving on, we were sitting on his couch, watching his movies, eating his popcorn. The far wall was scattered with posters and advertisements, and the concrete floor was cloaked in rug after rug. Tons of rugs. Gallons of rugs. Piles and mountains and hills of rugs. It was a collection we had going. Someday we'd have to throw them out or donate them, but we still got every rug that caught our eye. Some were blue, some were red. One in particular was this really disturbing shade of orange somewhere between tangerine and baby-barf-green (don't ask me how that works 'cause I really, really don't know) with a black pattern of which small sections that greatly resembled a penis.

The rug beneath our feet had the image of a smiley face. It was the only design in the house that hadn't disturbed anyone. (Yet.) It grinned up at us from the floor, almost as if it had a mind of its own and a proper mouth to tell me, “You're never going to get laid. Ever.” And in that brief instant I began to hate that little smiley face with a fiery passion to rival that of... fire, I guess? I dunno. What thing hates another- aha! Mario hated Luigi! I mean Bowser. I hated that carpet like Mario hated Bowser. There we go.

“You look like you're having fun. Didn't know you liked these kinds of movies.”

I blinked, then looked to the side where Riku was grinning like a manic, a handful of popcorn sitting idly in the bowl as they obviously awaited the movement-o'-doom that would bring the kernels to their inevitable, untimely toothy-Riku-mouth death. Then I looked to the television, where that one guy was on some kind of camping trip or something with another guy. “I'm not,” I replied. “Just stuck in my own head, I guess.”

Riku stared at me for an awkward second, but before long he turned back to the screen. “Okay, then.”

Then the guys were in a tent and I closed my eyes and plugged my ears. “Tell me when they're done.”

“You're the one who chose a homosexual romance,” I could hear Riku muse off to my left around my fingers.

“Why do you even have it?”

He scoffed. “Who says a guy can't appreciate a good movie with sex in it?”

“Sex without any girls!”

“So? Sex is sex. Naminé Stoner, that big impressionism painter, there's this rumor going around that she slept with the redhead woman in her newer paintings.”

I sighed. “Yeah- Kairi told me about that.”

“Kairi?”

“Redhead who ran errands at work. Recently quit to become a Journalist.”

Riku paused for a second, almost as if pretending to try to remember the woman. Who knows- he could have been trying, or maybe he hadn't. “No idea.”

“You call her the coffee-dyke.”

“Oh! Her! Wait- didn't you have a crush on her?”

“Shut up. Can I look now?”

Another second passed. “Yeah- it's safe.”

My eyes opened, but they glued themselves shut not a second later. “You said it was safe!”

“It is! They have a condom and everything!”

“I can't believe you're straight!” Off to my right Riku began to grumble something about masculinity. “What was that?”

“I said, 'You wish you were this straight.'” Another pause. “Are they seriously putting a cat in an oven?”

“What the- oh my God!”

“You're the one who looked!” the evil man replied. “Besides, they're in a tent. Why would they have an oven?”

Let it be established that Riku is a sick fuck.

…

If I had ever had a straight girl around my age to work up the courage to call, I have a feeling it would be much less nerve-wracking than what I was preparing to do. Dialing the number of a lesbian- as a man she had rejected due to said homosexuality- prompts something very much like the apocalypse in the brain. Here's what it was like for me. First, my palms began to sweat. Then my feet. After that my arms were shaking, along with my knees and ankles, shortly followed by my hands and torso. Perspiration beaded my brow; George Takei danced naked through Riku's living room begging the young man to take him where he leaped.

Well, not so much the last one, but you get the point. I was a wreck. But it was movie night, and the other guys we had called decided to bail at the last minute. Riku always insisted on a crowd. Roxas had practice, Reks had work, and his brother Vaan had school, to name a few. The rest of the numbers and their respective owners had stories very similar. In the end, the last number I could call was Kairi's.

She picked up rather quickly, in all honesty. “Hey, Sora. What's up?” My fingers twiddled in anxiousness. What if she said no? Was movie night going to be canceled? Possibilities riddled my head with undue worry. What if she said yes? What if we had to watch a chick flick? “Hello?”

“Oh- sorry,” I apologized, staring at the rug. This one was red. A bright red. Like my pants, or Kairi's hair. Except her hair was a bit darker, so it more resembled the hair of the guy that Roxas was always talking about. The Catholic one. “I was wondering if you might want to join Riku and me for movie night.”

There was a bit of shuffling on the other end of the line before she spoke. “Depends. What'cha watchin'?”

Glancing back to where Riku was shuffling through videos over by the couch, I shrugged. She couldn't see it so the movement was lost, but I still did it. “Dunno yet. We haven't chosen. There's a wide variety, though.”

Kairi seemed to hesitate. “How wide a variety are we speaking?” she inquired, managing to sound both tempted and repulsed by the idea. “Like 'Monty Python and the Flying Circus' to 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail?'”

Screwing up my face, I tried to figure out how small that collection would be. Maybe five. Glancing back to the sheer size of DVDs piled around Riku's TV- most of which, miraculously, mine- I took the time to consider what would best comprise its variety. Eventually I settled on, “From 'The Matrix' to 'Dora the Explorer.'”

“I'm there,” she replied almost instantly. There had been literally no break in our words, leaving me free to jump nearly out of my skin in surprise. “What's your address?”

After all the pleasantries of hanging up Riku and I were left to the odious chore of doing nothing. Meaning of course that we were waiting for the guests to appear. Sitting on the couch. On opposite cushions, of course, because straight men shouldn't try for physical contact with one another. It just wasn't done.

“So who'd you invite?” Riku inquired after a bit. “Vaan has school, right?”

“Yeah- and Reks has a shift tonight.” Our usual guests had slowly transformed into the busy business and college students of the day. This usually left Riku and me to go to bed on Fridays without movie night. Which, of course, is blasphemy. Movie night was a time honored tradition that could not be ignored. Like Family Game Night, Saturday Morning Cartoons, or Weekends at Hooters. (Not that I've ever been to Hooters. I bet it's chock-full of straight people, but if I ever go I'll probably learn about some “Homosexual Pride Night” or some such considering my luck.)

“We should go to Hooters.” The words slipped from my mouth before I could figure out why.

Riku gave me a look. One that was halfway between “You’re crazy,” and “You might be on to something here.”

“Why the sudden interest?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Straight people, for one. I mean, you're great and all but I need other heterosexual influences in my life.”

“But Reks-”

“Reks is gay.”

The man scoffed. “Please. My gaydar would have picked him up ages ago.”

“You're a model, Riku. I wouldn't be surprised if your gaydar has been broken for years.” Heaving a sigh, I shifted my weight on the couch until I felt that the overstuffed monstrosity had swallowed enough of my anatomy to be considered comfortable. “My gaydar is easily ten times more accurate than yours. Females just make it malfunction.” After a good ten minutes with no reply from the long-haired man, I glanced over to see what was up. My response was prime for argument. It even sounded arrogant. And yet he didn't speak up. No joke, no lilting reply as to how his gaydar was not, in fact, broken- thank you very much- and that he could spot a homosexual from a mile away. This was Riku. The man who comforted me from lesbian crush to lesbian crush. The man who had taken me into his home when college didn't pan out. The man who had been with me every step of the way, during every transition I went through.

Now, as I was home schooled you may think, “Not many transitions,” but he was still there for every one. He had been my neighbor growing up, living with his mother who had left his father for a woman. The only straight person in my life. The one to always cheer me up with a joke whenever I threw myself into a pile of lesbians hoping one was bi-curious or actually pansexual. And I had just left a joke lying wide open, secretly depressed, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he had this serious look on his face.

See here, Riku's not the thinking type. He's smart, yes, but he doesn't like to think since he's not very creative. Anything he comes up with has already been thought of. We built a raft- for no apparent reason- when we were ten and he wanted to call it the Highwind. A name he got from some video game.

But Riku's my best friend, so I worry about him.

“What's up?” I asked.

He looked at me, then. Eyes expressing something that I couldn't quite grasp. “Sora, I'm-”

The doorbell rang.

…

Watching movies with Kairi was nice.

But when a movie would end she'd always have to step out onto the balcony for a smoke. Once I even joined her, being a casual smoker. It was pleasant, just hanging out and chatting. If not completely awkward, that is. Man was she gorgeous. Nice, sweet, smart- all the pluses went on.

We didn't have anything in common except for smoking, though. It was nice, but at the same time the similarity irked me. Tugged at my brain for hours on end until I was freaking out over every little thing.

When she left I actually felt like quitting.

…

After Kairi left, Riku asked me to pick up something from the store with him. The old video place he got his DVDs at was having a sale, and he found a few coupons in his e-mail.

So there I was, browsing between the raunchy comedies and some action films. (Riku was in foreign drama somewhere.) Everything was marked fifty percent off. They really were having a big sale. The store was packed with people, but most of them were holding hands with other people- of the same gender, obviously. Apparently the store was famous for their selection of homo-erotica. No straight people here, folks!

There wasn't much selection left. People had already raided what supplies were to be had. All the Jack Black movies were gone, which was actually a relief of sorts. The last thing I needed was a drunken guy teaching music in my living room. Well, Riku's living room. It's not that he was a bad actor- far from it! It's just... you know...

Let's just say the guy embarrasses the living daylights out of me and leave it at that.

My fingers were hovering somewhere between Monty Python and the Holy Grail and some nameless frat movie when a voice to my right commented, “Better grab that before it's gone.” I spun around quickly. There, to my right, stood a little angel, complete with wings and a halo, hair fanning out in the wind and white robes billowing to the floor as she floated in mid-air and held out her unmarred, perfect, tiny hands to me in salvation.

Then I blinked, and I was face to face with a little redheaded woman about four or five inches shorter than myself. There were no wings, halos, or billowing robes. Instead, she was clad in well-fit jeans that were faded to oblivion and ripped at the hem- in a way that said, “I've had these forever and they're amazing,” instead of, “I bought these yesterday for $300.” A green sweater masked what could be nothing less than a lithe torso and arms, and a black beret sat atop the red mess that fell in waves to her shoulders. There was a blue vest, too, bulky and plastic-y, along with some worn doc martens that looked like they had been loved for a good ten years, at least, and had gone through a few messy wars in the process.

“You might not be able to find it that price ever again.”

Again, I blinked. She was still there, cute as a button. But she was a lesbian. I knew it. I knew she would be a lesbian. Kairi had been a lesbian, and the girl before her, and the girl before the first her, and every other girl I had ever known. This sweet little redhead with a gorgeous smile? Lesbian. Totally a lesbian. My gaydar was screaming that she wasn't, but it was broken when it came to girls. It always was.

Snapping myself out of my mental marathon of a monologue, I shrugged. “Riku and I already have two copies, though. I just like reading the back.”

“Ah. Is your boyfriend around here?”

Another blink, then laughter. “He is, but he's not my boyfriend. He's my roommate. He and I are probably the only straight guys here.” Glancing over to the foreign drama section, I shrugged. “What about you? Girlfriend wandering the aisles?”

“Nope. Straight and single.”

Straight.

Straight.

She was straight.

It was so odd hearing the words from a female mouth. From female lips. With a female voice. At first they didn't register. What did “straight” mean, anyway? That she didn't like penetration? That she could only get off in a building that was structurally sound with perfectly even floors? That she didn't kiss with her head tilted?

Then it hit me.

She was straight.

And single.

I tried to hide my enthusiasm and not appear too overbearing.

“I'm Sora,” I said.

“Cissnei.”

“Do you like rugs?”

…

After I got over the elated-jumpy-twirly phase upon reaching home with Cissnei's phone number, it occurred to me that something was kind of wrong with life as I knew it. Not something big, but something not quite right.

Oh- right. Riku had that thing to tell me. I'd tell him about Cissnei in the morning, then.

“So what were you trying to tell me earlier?” I asked, wandering into the man's “bedroom.” (Studio apartment. Paper walls everywhere. A room isn't quite a room, but oh well.) Riku was getting ready for bed, all set up with his hair safely braided and bobby-pinned into place. “Before Kairi showed up.”

He was quiet for a long time.

“Sora, I'm gay.” When will the rainbow stop? “And I've got a thing for brunettes.”

Normally I would freak. The only straight man I knew was gay. But I was riding high on Cissnei power, so it didn't bug me nearly as much as it should. “So you like Reks?”

He then rolled over in bed and pretended I didn't exist for a good week.

**Author's Note:**

> How many of you expected that last bit? Probably a lot of you. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
